


it was dark, now it's sunrise

by quietcabeswater



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, don't worry it's only a little bit and it has a happy ending, feelings are scary shocker, might throw in some angst cause why not, there's a lot of space metaphors i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-11 22:57:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11724333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietcabeswater/pseuds/quietcabeswater
Summary: Lance keeps showing up at Keith's door, just to talk, because fighting the biggest evil in the universe every day while being hella homesick is anything but easy. Keith doesn't mind though, because having someone listen to you and comfort you is refreshing.or: 5 times Lance shows up at Keith's door and one time he doesn't





	it was dark, now it's sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> okay so I was hit by klance feels and this happened. also I'm obsessed with this type of fic and I couldn't resist.  
> I won't bother with too many details about the actual plot of vld because I might screw it up, so I hope you're fine with only watching these boys fall in love and act like idiots. also if you notice any mistakes (english is not my first language) or plot holes please tell me!
> 
> (title and a lot of inspiration from coldplay's hypnotised)

**I.**  
The first time Lance finds himself standing at Keith’s door he’s barely breathing, and his heart has sunken low.

He is almost certain this is the most difficult thing he’s ever done and wonders just how much longer his lungs will resist before collapsing with the weight of what he’s about to do. It’s been a while since the thought had taken form in his mind, although he can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment it did. Maybe it’s always been there, hidden in some distant, darkened corner of his brain. _You have_ _never been good enough. You never will be._ His whole body aches at the reminder, although can it really be called a reminder if he never forgets it? The wound deepens as he weighs in the consequences of this: losing a part of himself and his little new-found family.

A picture of his actual family starts molding before his tired eyelids and he quickly shakes himself out of his thoughts, this is not the time to cry. He’s weary and hates to be the one who steps aside from Voltron but someone has to do it, given the circumstances. He knows that at this point there’s no going back, so when Keith opens the door, he steps in, wishing to just be done with it.

Opening up to Keith turns out to be less daunting than he has expected and words keep spilling out, even and certain, and his voice doesn’t crack. Keith watches him in utter confusion, with kind, yet distressed eyes and reassuring words, and as the conversation proceeds, the weight threatening to crack his ribcage open eases. But still the insecurity can’t be persuaded to vanish so easily.

“And Lance, leave the Math to Pidge.”

In Lance’s opinion, his math is quite good, thank you very much, but Keith’s tone is sincere and holds an unspoken promise, and his smile feels like sunlight in the darkness, after too long a night. So when the corners of Lance’s mouth lift up in return, he means it, and maybe, just maybe, he believes that Keith is right.

 

 **II.**  
The second time, he doesn’t have to stand in front of the door, because Keith opens it for both of them, and holds it until Lance passes through.

Tiredness presses at his temples and the hopelessness that has started to creep in is slowly, painfully chewing a hole in his chest but he comes in, because he can’t quite imagine being alone in this moment. They’re discussing strategies but it all feels in vain, so he starts to lose focus. Instead, as he sits down on the floor, leaning on the edge of the bed, he starts replaying fragments of the day in his head. All the slip-ups slap him all over again and he’s kind of spiraling into a mental breakdown. Keith’s voice startles him.

“What do you think?” He looks almost hopeful and Lance feels guilty for not having paid attention.

“I didn’t… Sorry. Can you repeat it?”

“It was not good, anyway. It’s not worth it.” Keith says as he sits down next to him.

It’s silent for a while but it’s not at all uncomfortable. He wouldn’t know what to say either way. They’ve had their fair share of unfortunate, miserable days but nothing like today and he knows that his jokes can only do so much. He and Keith have been working better together lately but in the great scheme of things it’s not enough. He wants to say that they did a good job today but it burns his throat and tastes bitter on his tongue so he keeps it to himself. It wouldn’t change anything, anyway. His sigh is almost inaudible but Keith’s is deep and pained, and together they mingle and become too loud for the silence that has veiled over them.

“I better go. I need my beauty sleep.” He says, standing, and neither one of them laughs at the joke. “’Night, Keith.”

“’Night!” Keith’s voice is almost a whisper, and he looks defeated in the dim, silver light of the room.

Their eyes meet and Lance can’t help but say it anyway, in hope of painting even the faintest of smiles on Keith’s face. “We made a good team today.”

Keith doesn’t smile though, but his features soften and he nods, not breaking the stare, in a sign of acknowledgement and gratitude. Lance finds it easier to fall asleep that night.

 

 **III.**  
The third time, Lance doesn’t remember getting out of his own room and only realizes where he is the moment Keith’s voice echoes in the hallway. “How long are you going to stand there?”

So the next thing he knows, he’s sitting on the edge of Keith’s bed and lets out a barely audible sigh. “Hey, man.”

“Hey.” Keith greets him, placing himself on the opposite side of the mattress, back lined against the wall, knee drawn to his chest. “What’s up?”

And he talks. He knows that Keith will listen to whatever he has to say without interrupting so he’s safe for a while, letting out all the feelings he’s been suppressing these past few days. Or longer… He would’ve never guessed that homesickness would be so suffocating, that he could feel so crushed but if he were to guess, he’d say it’s because he’s been struggling so much to bottle these feelings up and move forward, that they’ve finally started to overflow.

He moves a little, lifting his legs on the bed and pauses, giving Keith the opportunity to speak. Lance meets his stare, and feels the need to move again, but he ends up with the opposite result of what he originally planned, stretching his legs and bumping Keith’s right foot. The sudden contact distracts them both, and for a moment, seeing the realignment of the other boy’s features, Lance worries he’s crossed a boundary they can’t come back from. Keith’s face shifts from worry and some kind of fondness to surprise and a tinge of panic, and eventually settles into a shy smile as he repositions himself on the bed, guiding their soles until they’re pressed against each other. Finally, he speaks.

“Well that sucks. I mean, I do miss my father, but I guess homesickness has never been too much of an issue for me. I miss a lot of things I used to do before… before all this.” He gestures around the room as to indicate traveling through the Universe and parallel dimensions on a flying castle while battling incredible forces of evil. “I guess it’s normal to feel like this, but I never felt it as bad as you do. It’s just… I have you guys, so…” His voice trails off until they’re sitting in complete silence.

Lance is watching him intently but Keith seems to find the cracks in the walls far more interesting than whatever can be read on Lance’s face. “I’m glad I have you guys, too” He breathes, showing a gentle smile. Keith eventually looks up and returns it and Lance hopes that the other boy can read the gratefulness and understanding he would put into words if his breath weren’t stuck in his throat.  
But Keith seems to understand it all and Lance wonders when they began to be able to communicate solely with their eyes or simple gestures. Keith is the one who averts his gaze first but he can’t hide a grin as Lance’s feet start moving playfully, challenging Keith to do the same. This is how they end up playing for what feels like hours, until they get tickly and bend over from laughing, until all the pain dissipates and blood rises in their cheeks.

“Thanks, man. For everything.” Lance tells him as he’s about to leave. Keith’s smile is still present on his face, and Lance doesn’t remember the last time it has lasted so long. He feels a surge of heat traveling through his veins at the realization that he’s contributed to that blinding and beautiful thing and swears to himself that this isn’t the last time it happens.

 

 

 **IV.**  
This time, even after knocking twice, the door continues to stay closed.

He knows that Keith is in there and he is not willing to give up on this so easily, to give up on _him_. He breathes in and lets the words roll off this tongue as gentle as he manages so that he can still be heard on the other side of the wall despite the mellow tone. “Keith, it’s me. Open up, I know you’re in there.” He has no other alternative but to wait.

To his surprise, not long after, a small creak catches his attention and Keith’s silhouette gradually appears in front of him. He is even more disquieted by the sight. The other boy looks more like a ghost than a boy, shoulders hunched, hollow cheeks and pronounced dark circles around his puffy eyes. Tears are blinking like stars in his dark irises and Lance’s heart squeezes in itself and stings as he takes it all in. It’s a tragic view, honestly: this boy who rarely shows any emotion, who always seems brave and confident, to appear now so broken and helpless. Lance suddenly feels like crying.

But he doesn’t, because no one in such a miserable state needs someone to tear up in front of them, so he manages to keep his posture as he shuts the door and steps a few inches toward Keith. He has no idea what to say to make it all better, so he extends his hand and places it on the other boy’s forearm. The next movements are too quick to register, to make sense of, to control. But then, the moment they crash into each other’s arms, the intensity of it is unbearable, and Lance thinks that this must be what happens when stars collide and galaxies explode. Yet letting go would be undeniably more destructive and Keith’s nose finds shelter in the crook of Lance’s neck, face slightly wet with tears. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

They stay like that for a long time, until Keith’s ragged breathing slows down, until his shoulders stop trembling, his hands clinging to Lance’s shirt stop shaking and his palms are stretched out on Lance’s back, until their hearts pick up a slower pace.

“I’m so sorry” Keith whispers. “I failed everyone”.

“Hey, look at me” Lance says as he guides his chin up, and then lowers his hand at noticing the lack of space between them. The step he takes back tears through his heart, leaving him breathless and the cold that settles in his veins at the separation sends chills down his spine. He composes himself. “First of all, you didn’t fail anyone. This is on all of us. And secondly, it’s on us all to get through this, as well. We’ll find a way, we always do. We’re a good team, remember?”

“Yeah, we are.” Keith says, closing the space between them again. As seconds pass, the horizon clears and their shattered pieces regroup, and a new kind of force draws them toward each other, clear and persistent. A gleam of realization dawns on him but it’s quick and it slips right through his fingers like sand. And as the warmth envelops them both, Lance doesn’t even bother to try to grasp it again.

 

**V.**

Lance doesn’t remember how many nights in a row he has spent alone in his room lately and it frustrates him to no end that he no longer finds the quiet to be peaceful, and that he craves company. Well _someone_ ’s company, anyway. The walls suddenly seem too cold and the room is too large and the restlessness in his bones can’t be tamed. So he finds his way down the hallway, as he’s done a few times before. Not that he’s counted.

Yet again he finds himself planted before Keith’s door and as he starts to knock, works at a plausible excuse for his visit. It’s a dangerous thing, what they’re doing but it’s getting impossible to be separated for too long. Before he can actually decide on what to say, the dark haired boy smiles at him as he opens the door. It scares him sometimes, both the power that smile possesses over him, and the fact that he’s usually the reason behind it. For now, he concentrates on appearing casual and makes a mental note to try to stay away from Keith and all these emotions that are turning him mad starting tomorrow.

“Boring day, right?” He remarks before Keith can start throwing questions at him, and takes his usual place on the mattress. But Keith surprisingly agrees and doesn’t make further inquiries as he sits next to Lance. It’s nice, how at ease they feel with each other now, and he smiles a little to himself as he thinks it. _Who knew?_

Silence has never been an issue to them, but on the contrary, there are times when it is more comfortable than speaking. Now, however, Lance feels compelled to say something but doesn’t know what. Well, he has a few ideas as to what, but not to how. So he starts rambling about a video game he used to play when he was little. Keith jumps slightly, remembering said game himself, and swapping childhood stories no longer feels painful to Lance, but bittersweet. The unease he’s felt earlier fades away.

Again, he is struck by the fact that in more than an hour, Keith hasn’t stopped smiling. And neither did he. He feels the heat rise in his cheeks and mentally curses his tendency to blush so easily but if Keith notices, he doesn’t mention it. The tension in the air and the gravitational force that keeps drawing them closer to each other makes Lance feel a little dizzy and for a few moments he forgets how to breathe. If his face was pink before, now he is certain it’s unnaturally red. He flops onto the bed to hide his embarrassment only for his head to land on Keith’s legs. But Keith’s still talking and although the littlest pause can be perceived in his flow, he gets over it, as if not to give Lance a chance to react and move away. So Lance doesn’t.

“My mom used to play with my hair when I couldn’t sleep, you know?” He murmurs at some point. “It used to calm me down.” His eyes are watery and hold an unmatched gentleness as he remembers her. His breath hitches as he feels hands dancing hesitantly over his scalp and at that, Keith retreats, a mixture of confusion and shame on his face.

“Why’d you stop?” And as Keith puts his hands in his curls again, he closes his eyes.

An eternity later, when sleep tugs at their eyelids and their limbs go numb from tiredness, they just lie on their backs, bodies merely inches apart, barely fitting into the bed. They find that not even puzzle pieces fit as perfectly as they do, and the invisible string that connects them shortens and shortens and eventually brings them face to face, in a too small bed, with too much warmth and mouths perilously close to each other. With lips slightly parted and less than a breath in between, Lance forgets which one of them is breathing, and it might be both, as one. But they don’t dare to completely fill the gaps, so they stay in silence, sharing each inhale and exhale, and the tension is so overwhelming that a single more brush of skin could set them on fire. Oh, and how the Universe would burn!

 

**+I.**

The quiet in his room has never been more piercing, so Lance takes out his headphones and, ignoring the possibility of going deaf, turns the volume as high as it gets and lays down, closing his eyes.

His brows are furrowed, both from the inhumane volume of the music blaring in his ears, and from working intensely with his thoughts, although in vain, considering it’s been God knows how many hours and he hasn’t managed to calm down in the slightest. His mind, as considerate as always, keeps replaying the day’s events: the completely screwed up training session, the constant yelling, it all comes back like a movie, flashing before his eyes.

He’s tried to tune it off, he really has, but each time he succeeds, Keith’s smile appears and the ghost of Keith’s breath on his skin, and Keith’s thighs pressed against his own, and a hypnotising rush takes over his being. Then it starts to ache. And it’s so deep set in his bones and so agonizing on a whole other level that he prefers tormenting himself with bitter regrets. He wonders what brought them to this moment, when the change has occurred. It’s funny to think that not even 24 hours ago they were tangled up in each other and could barely count as two separate beings, and to compare it with the disaster of today’s interactions. _Maybe I_   _shouldn’t have left in such a hurry. Perhaps he feels the same. What if I told him that I want to draw a smile on his face every day for as long as he’d let me?_

What happens when you are perfectly aware of what you are supposed to do but too afraid of what might happen once you do to act in any way? _What is wrong with you? He deserves someone better. It would ruin the team’s dynamic anyway,_ says a too familiar voice.

If while he’s laying there, music blasting in his headphones and thoughts screaming even louder, someone comes knocking at his door, once… twice… he doesn’t hear.

And if that person leans against the doorway and asks: "Lance, can we talk? I’m sorry. Please open up?" he doesn’t hear.

And if that person happens to be Keith and walks away with half a heart and mind in pieces, Lance doesn’t know.

 

**Bonus:**

It’s been too long since he’s closed his eyes, he should have been asleep by now. With a deep sigh, he checks the clock to see the numbers burning too red and too bright across the room: 2:17 a.m. He doesn’t hesitate before standing up and heading for the door. The hallway is colder than usual and Lance finds himself shivering. He hopes it’s not too late to set things right. He knocks. The door opens.

Except this time, he is not invited to step inside immediately, and the dark haired boy wears a frown. Nevertheless he’s still beautiful. “Hey, man.”

“I hope you have a good reason for not answering me earlier”.

The floor shakes a little under his feet “What are you talking about? Did you…? I had my headphones on, I swear. I’m sorry, okay?”

His eyes are searching, waiting for a verdict, and he allows himself a flicker of hope when Keith steps aside and lets him come in. The silence is yet again too loud and his ears are still ringing from the music he’s listened to and all he can do is stand unmoving in the center of the room, seeking the right words. As the clouds from Keith’s face clear out, he gathers himself just enough to say “I don’t know what to do.”

Sitting next to each other on Keith’s bed has become part of their routine but the tension surging between them now is not ordinary. It’s the kind of thirst you neglect for so long it starts hurting, and you’re in desperate need of water. However, you know that drinking too much and too fast is just as painful. So they talk, as they’ve done all those nights, eyes everywhere but on each other.

“I don’t want to screw this up.”

“What did we fight about, anyway?”

“I feel like an intruder sometimes.” It takes a while for Keith to grasp the meaning of this sentence, and when he finally does, he jerks his head in order to look at Lance properly.

“You really are bad at Math.” He scoffs. “Why would you say that?” He pauses for a second, before continuing: “These hours with you are the best part of my day.”

Their faces are for a second time in dangerous proximity and, unlike last night, Lance surrenders to the urge prickling under his skin, lifts his hands to cup Keith’s cheeks and letting out a hushed sob, presses their lips together. Keith's mouth is welcoming and his lips part slightly in expectancy and time slows down until the planets stop spinning and the stars stop burning and nothing in the Universe dares to stir. It’s stillness instead of chaos, it’s a breath of fresh air instead of asphyxiation, it is sunrise and it’s astounding.

They pull apart for an instant, too stunned to utter any sounds, and so overcome with emotion, that they have to rest their foreheads against each other for grounding. He feels the corners of Keith’s mouth perk up and realizes that he’s never wanted anything more fiercely than to kiss that smile. So he does, and this time the world doesn’t freeze still, yet it tilts just a little bit, arranging itself as it should have always been.

And if this beam on Keith’s face will guide him through the darkest of days and save him each time, Lance is certain of it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> so this was it, thanks for reading, have mercy on me cause it's my first fic and I don't know how this works yet lmao.


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